Letter of the week: The visionless visionary

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Tom McTague’s meditation on Jean Monnet left me wondering whether he underestimates his subject. Monnet’s genius was not that he began with a grand vision of Europe, but that he rarely began with vision at all. He began with wheat, shipping, coal and steel: practical problems that demanded practical cooperation. Only afterwards did a political idea emerge. The essay describes Monnet’s method as “incremental totalisation”, yet concludes by lamenting the absence of another statesman with sufficiently “clear ideas”. That seems to reverse the lesson.

Monnet’s achievement was not to persuade Europeans to believe in an abstraction. It was to demonstrate, repeatedly, that shared interests could create shared loyalties. Perhaps this is why contemporary politics feels so barren. We spend so much time searching for the next Churchill, Monnet or Delors that we neglect the smaller acts of statecraft from which enduring political communities are built. Vision without method is fantasy; method without vision is bureaucracy. Monnet understood that the former could only arise from the latter.

The question, then, is not who will be the next Monnet, but what common problem Europeans, Britons included, might solve together. History suggests that political imagination is seldom the starting point. More often, it is the reward.
Federico Forni, London SW15

Apples and oranges

Every analogy breaks down at some point, even that drawn between Henry VIII’s six wives and our six prime ministers. After all, none of the wives crashed the economy; none precipitated a break with most of Europe (though admittedly one was partly responsible for a break with the papacy); none spent her time on fruitless diplomatic wrangling with her own nasty party; none played the role of a royal fool; none was especially wealthy; and, very significantly, none came from a working-class background.
Colin Richards, Spark Bridge, Cumbria

A matter of time

Liz Sleight is mathematically correct in asserting that one year of ten is a much larger proportion than one year of 60. But she is looking at the problem from the wrong end. A boy of ten has perhaps another 70 years of life left; a man of 60 today has, if he is lucky, another 18. At that age one looks at one year as a proportion of what is left to you, rather than as a proportion of one’s whole span. That calculation is much less appealing than the boy’s one-80th!
Dr John O’Dowd, Bothwell, Lanarkshire, Scotland

Hold the front page

I must say, hats off to the front-page designer the past two weeks: Hockney– and Bayeux-inspired masterpieces. What a delight! Ones to frame, just maybe.
Stephen Rowe, Banbury

What a wonderful cover was the Bayeux-Burnham. The Anglo-Saxon women embroiderers would, I imagine, be delighted for Ailbhe Rea (a stitcher, too, of stories) to have it framed in her loo.
Richard Baker, London SE24

Furlong read

I’d like to thank Will Dunn for his vivid, hilarious account of the “Man vs Horse” race in Llanwrtyd Wells. I’m so glad he was daft enough to enter the race, and that he survived to write about his experience. If any readers haven’t yet read it, I urge you to search it out. A note of caution: make sure you’re neither eating nor drinking while reading. I’ll bet I’m not the only reader who “whinnied with delight” at the end. Diolch, Will.
Christine Williams, Bwlchmelyn, Saron, Llandysul, Sir Gâr

Battle stations

Will Lloyd’s Sketch was engaging and humorous. However, with the prospect of a leadership contest looking unlikely, there will be no civil war for Comrade Burnham to lead his Red Army into. Wes Streeting will not have to motivate the troops like Trotsky. But Burnham will have to deal with complaints about housing and food prices, just as Russians moaned about land and shortages in 1917. Yesterday’s problems still affect us today – or in this case, the last century’s problems.
Joshua Cumming, Glasgow

The shameful put-down of Euston’s “dumb buggies ferrying around the elderly” in Will Lloyd’s Sketch insults the vital service those vehicles provide for disabled travellers who have booked passenger assistance. With spinal stenosis restricting my walking and destroying my balance, I rely upon it to get me on to a train, into an appropriate carriage and then off again.
David Bull, Bristol

Have patience, Britain

Andrew Marr is right that people seem to have already made up their minds about Andy Burnham. He’s been MP for Makerfield for just over a fortnight and already half the nation has decided he’ll fail as PM. Pundits of all political shades insist his policies will fail, his economics will fail, and his delivery will fail. Here’s a man full of energy and enthusiasm, optimistic that politics can be done differently and that the UK can thrive. Burnham may not be a messiah, but at least he offers some fresh ideas and an energetic response to what ails us. Yet all we can do is whinge and criticise before he’s even set foot inside No 10. Maybe the trouble with this country is not our politicians, it’s us.
Jill Sharp, Swindon

Power of television

I enjoyed Leo Robson’s article on James Richardson. Italian football in the 1990s seemed like a different world, and his show brought so much of it and Italy to life. I can’t help but highlight the French equivalent – Gary Imlach’s long run on ITV’s Tour de France coverage, which sadly ended last year. Commentary on the race was always great but at times secondary to the culture and history of the host country, lovingly mocked and celebrated at the same time.
Matt Hammond, London NW3

Low blows

I have a lot in common with Oli Dugmore. I voted Green at the last election. Before that, Labour. During a confused time in my life, I too backed the Lib Dems. Oli’s framing of the political choice before us as “young vs old” works as a generalisation, I suppose. But I’m 81. We all have a part to play.
David Evans, London N8

Oli Dugmore joins the chorus of political journalists claiming that in Britain “nothing works”. This is just not true. My pension was paid into my account. The books I ordered from the library arrived. My train to London ran on time. I get water from the taps. My household bin was emptied on Friday. Sainsbury’s had all the items on my shopping list. And the New Statesman arrived as expected on Thursday. Those who claim that “Britain is broken” ought to visit somewhere outside western Europe.
John Boaler, Calne, Wiltshire

Tartan samba-style

I enjoyed Gordon Brown’s thoughts on the World Cup though I was surprised that, as one of Westminster’s more authentic football men, he seems to have forgotten two of Scotland’s four previous tournament meetings with Brazil. They met in 1974, drawing 0-0, and again in 1990. Scotland losing their opening match in Italy to Costa Rica is the indelible memory from that World Cup. Less recalled is the late goalkeeper error from Jim Leighton that allowed Müller to score for a 1-0 Brazil win, denying Scotland a place in the knockouts – as happened this year.
John Brewin, London E2

Out on a limb

For the avoidance of doubt, the photo accompanying Silver Spoon is not of a chicken wing, but a chicken leg. A wing is something far less exciting, consisting of mostly skin and gristle. Just saying.
Brian Cunningham, Norwich

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[Further reading: The Degradation of Independence]